


I Don't Know Why

by elmosolyodnius



Category: Descendants (2015), The Isle of the Lost - Melissa de la Cruz
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cinnamon rolls, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, M/M, May or may not be well written, Possible smut, Warnings May Change, mild child abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5018692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elmosolyodnius/pseuds/elmosolyodnius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Descendents non-magical AU. Intended to be multi-chapter, but not being one is fine, depends on comments. First Jaylos fic, comments are welcome.</p>
<p>There were three things that Carlos loved most: his inventions, the school mascot Dude, and his science class. <br/>The one thing he couldn’t stand, tutoring some dipshit in science. But sadly, that was his life right now.</p>
<p>Read at your own risk; warnings will be added later if needed. Not beta-d, all mistakes are my own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Know Why

There were three things that Carlos loved most: his inventions, the school mascot Dude, and his science class.   
The one thing he couldn’t stand, tutoring some dipshit in science. But sadly, that was his life right now.  
“Dr.Facilier” he pleaded to the pudgy old coot sitting in front of him. “I’m really too busy. Dude depends on me. I-I-... I don’t even know him!”  
The headmaster chuckled. “Nonsense, Mr.De Vil. I’ve seen the two of you together on campus on numerous occasions.”  
‘Yeah,’ thought Carlos, ‘before he hits me.’ However, he didn’t say a word, which the headmaster took as impertinence.  
“Look, Mr. De Vil,” snapped the headmaster as he pushed himself up to his great height, “I am in charge of this school. And if I say you will be tutoring Mr. Jay in science, then damn right you will do it.” At this point Dr.Facilier’s face was a mere inch away from Carlos’, and he backed up in fear of scaring the poor boy.  
“I’m sorry Carlos,” and you could hear the regret in his voice. “I’m just surprised, that’s all,” the witch doctor admitted, a plan beginning to form in his wicked brain as he settled down onto the corner of the burgundy desk. “I mean, tutoring is a part of student spirit, and while we’re all aware that you joined purely for the Dude rearing privileges,” and here he gave a long sigh for extra effect, “I’d hate for you to get kicked off the squad, therefore restricting your time with Dude from, what, every minute outside of class to a mere thirty seconds a week, maybe a half second pat on the back before your poor Dude is taken away by a member of student spirit who knows how to do their job.” And with that, the doctor turned around and settled back into his chair with a smirk; the trap had been set, now it was time to watch the boy flop around helplessly.  
“But, but, sir…” Carlos gulped helplessly.  
“Now boy, I may be forced into retirement, but shall I remind you of my special friends?” The air dropped a few degrees as black whispers of days long gone crept in from the drafty walls long past neglected.  
“Ugh,” Carlos resigned, “fine. But why me, Reza easily could’ve done it.”  
The headmaster’s face clouded. “I was afraid you’d ask that. Look son,” he sighed, “I don’t even know why. All I know is that Mr.Jafar himself walked down these halls, strolled into my office and demanded that his son be tutored by a child of Cruella De Vil. And the only offspring of her’s is right in front of me. And it’s not like I could’ve said no.” Here he leaned in close (though not nearly as close as last time, he didn’t want child molestation charges). “You remember the last time Jafar was that mad.”  
Carlos shuddered. Of course he remembered. He hadn’t been born yet, but the adults did, yet they never uttered the incident, preferring to describe, cringe, and then move on. Or plain rant. And his mother was one of these many. He could still remember the words she had said as he poured her yet another glass of champagne.  
“That Jafar,” she had cried, “is the most evil man to step upon this earth. Well, top 3,” Cruella reasoned as she took another sip. “He had been a famous man in Asia; all of the land bowed to his will. But as he ‘claimed’, it had been Aladdin who ruined his life. Who fell in love. And yet, the man has a child.”  
At this point Cruella threw her glass to the real-fur carpet and snatched the bottle from Carlos’ hand. She took a deep swig as Carlos ran to clean up the stain.  
“I mean,” she started, “someone had to have liked him. And yet he taught his child to steal. While the man claims to have done it for “business purposes” I believe he just wanted an Aladdin, but a better one. An Aladdin that would always bend down to his will.” By now Carlos was on the ground scrubbing out the champagne at her feet while listening carefully; these stories never lasted long.  
“I’ve heard that he stole Jay --and of he named that pest after him, the cocky ass son-of-a-bitch-- from Aladdin, which would explain the boy’s natural gift for thievery, but no, he insists that he made some poor women bear him a child. Some poor women like me!”  
Then she fixed her eyes down on Carlos with a look of pure hatred, one that you should pray never lands on your worst enemy, much less a child. She kicked him firmly in the gut with the point of her red shoe. He landed in the soot of the fireplace white Cruella lit a cigarette.  
“I used to be a strong, powerful, fashionable, young woman! Then, a bunch of nosey, uptight shits get annoyed when I wish to adopt some puppies! Then, I finally meet a man who promises to love me, care for me, like nobody else would. Then, he leaves me, for NO reason, and I’m left To take care of a useless wretch like you.”   
And here is when Cruella leaned in close to Carlos’ shaking face. the disdain in her gaze paralyzing him.   
“That man, before he left, told me I was a monster, and unworthy of love. Well, you brat, as long as my blood runs through your veins, so do you.” And on that note, she pressed her glowing cigarette onto his bare skin until it burned out. She then ripped it off, and ignoring the glistening flesh, got up and strutted to her room, ignoring the heartbroken cries of her son on the white carpet as Carlos prayed he wouldn’t scream.  
Carlos snapped out of his daymare. He took a deep breath, and as he released it, he sank back down into the hunch he had been used to for quite some time. He fixed his eyes on the floor.   
The headmaster sighed; it hadn't been the first time he had seen the young boy turn this way. “Carlos-”  
“It’s fine, I’ll do it.” The blonde had responded to the floor. ‘No use making it worse then it needs to be,” he thought bitterly, “besides, bullying builds character, as Mother often said.’ “It can’t be that bad, right?” Carlos asked with a small shrug and smile.  
Dr. Facilier beamed back at him. “That’s the spirit, Mr. De Vil.” As he turned to leave the headmaster grimaced, and unfortunately Carlos saw.  
“What’s wrong? It’s just tutoring, what’s with the face?”  
“In order for the two of you to have the most effective tutoring possible, we have arranged for the two of you to transfer to our parent school, Auradon Preparatory School. It’s a boarding school, and unless you choose to decline the opportunity, you’ll start next week. And Carlos, you really should take the chance: they have a wonderful technology program, far better than anything we could provide for you here. And even if the tutoring doesn’t work, you’ll be enrolled until the end of high school. We’ve already contacted both parents, and mutual agreement was obtained almost immediately. And the two of you would share a room, so extra studying opportunities!”  
Carlos simply nodded. “Ok, I’ll just, um..” He gave a little wave and turned around, and just before he crossed the threshold-  
“Um, Carlos,” called the headmaster. “You start tomorrow.” And as he leaned back against his chair he could hear the loud groan.

*******************************************************************************

“Jay, you need to listen to me,” pleaded Jafar as he followed his son through the cramped living room (Jafar was kind of a hoarder). “I don’t think you realize what a great opportunity this is for us.”  
“What, Dad?” replied an exasperated Jay while he rolled his eyes. “Ever since you got that call from school you’ve been jumping around like you’ve found the Big Prize.” Suddenly, he dropped the meat he’d been holding.  
“Wait, did you find the Big Prize?” Before he even heard the expectant “no”, Jay rolled his eyes and bent down to pick up his bologna.   
“Ugh, Jay,” exclaimed Jafar as his son ate the dusty lunch meat. “Have some class. Well as much as you can have in this filthy hovel we’re forced to call home. This shouldn’t be our home. Our home should be in a great sultan’s palace. People should be bowing down to-”  
“the name of Jafar,” finished Jay with a flourish. He gave a mockingly deep bow before taking a bite of his new (dirt-free) sandwich. “Now, on to the point of calling me back home; you disrupted my run.”  
“Oh, forget that nonsense, we have something bigger on the horizon.” And with that Jafar ran excitedly to his room and came back holding a large book. He opened it up to a miniature dust storm.  
“Elch,” exclaimed Jay as he blew the dust out of his face. “This thing must be older than you.”  
Jay glared at him. “We may be laughing right now, but I am not your friend. Remember it.”  
Jay shut up. “So,” he started, backing up from Jafar, “what’s with the book?”  
Jafar rolled his eyes. “This book,” explained Jafar, “is the only written record of everyone’s possessions on île de la perte. Haven’t you ever wondered how i knew exactly who to steal from, and what they had?”  
Jay frowned. ‘I should’ve wondered how he managed to get three more lamps to add to his “store” before I had managed to get the ring of Ms. Facilier’s finger.’  
“Wait, question, why do we need the book again?”  
“Simple, my child. My book has told me that Ms.Cruella De Vil has recently come into possession of some rare, precious furs. While I’m fifty-three percent sure it isn’t puppy this time -- I mean really, that woman is sick -- these furs will go for at least fifty thousand dollars each on any refutable black market. Can you imagine what those fortunes will do for us?”  
Jay thought about it, and then a smile stretched across his face. “”I can finally get that new pair of leather gloves I’ve been asking for for like...forever?!”  
Jafar took one glance at the hopeful grin on his son’s face, and immediately proceeded to slap it off.  
As Jay walked off to get an ice-pack, Jafar continued. “That money could give us a new life! I could be rich and powerful beyond measure. You could stop dressing like the number-one aggravator of PETA! And as soon as you bring me those furs, you’ll make me proud again. We’ll even split the money fifty-one to forty-nine! I’ll even throw in a gold coin of mine! And you know the golden rule!”  
“Whoever has the most gold makes the rules.” The motto rolled effortlessly of Jay’s tongue; it wasn’t the first time he’s ever recite that. “Wait, what?”  
“Me?!”  
But Jafar was unconcerned with his son’s outburst. “Well, Jay, as you know, you’re failing science.”  
“I know by Dad, you ordered me to, but other than that, where do I fit into this?”  
“I have arranged for you to be tutored by Carlos De Vil. Speaking of the boy, have you been doing what I asked of you?”  
Jay smirked. “The boy runs away at the very sight of me.”  
Jafar smiled. “That’s my son,” he praised as he patted his back. “Hey, speaking of fear, when I walked into that office, I found your secretary huddled underneath her desk, she was terrified!”  
“Nice, Dad!” Jay leaned into a shoulder bump and patted his dad’s back. “I’m not doing it.”  
The ex royal vizier frowned. “Why, my child, what about our dream?”  
“Don’t you mean your dream? Unlike you, I’m perfectly fine with my life, because I accept that it's my life. I have the whole neighborhood under my possession, I’m the Prince of Thieves (and Jay noticed the grimace his father made at the term, well, his father wanted him to have a damn title so much, so he better get over it), anyone with an eyeball is under my finger, and in case you forgot Dad, I’m fucking hot.”  
Jafar just rolled his eyes. ‘Great,’ he thought, ‘now the cocky ass son-of-a-bitch has me doing it.’   
“Jay, what you must remember is that this life is only temporary. This is like a pit stop to the big time. Now, where’s my gold?”  
Jay groaned for effect; secretly he loved the game. “I don’t have your game.”  
“Who has my gold?”  
“The people have your gold.”  
“Go get my gold.”  
“I’ll get your gold. Will we share it?”  
“No,” Jafar frankly replied. Upon seeing the look on Jay’s face, he changed his tune. “I kid, I kid” (and Jay knew he was lying, he never joked about riches). Now go make me proud.”  
“Ok, Dad, okay,” chided Jay, and he left to the sight of a formerly glorious man rubbing his hands together before re-opening the book.

*******************************************************************************

“Hey Jay,” said Mal as Jay dropped down besides her from wherever the hell he came from.  
“Howdy, Mal,” replied Jay. “You aren’t gonna ask where I was?”  
Mal decided to play along. “Hmm, let’s see,” she started, putting her finger on her lip as if she seriously cared. “You have a lamp in your pocket, some fries in your hand, your beanie is jingling with every step, and there’s a peacock feather sticking out of your jacket. So nothing new. However, I can smell the sweetness on your breath, so either you stole candy directly from the Gingerbread Witch, or made out with her brat of a daughter and stole hers.”  
Jay smirked. “Both.” He reached into the bottomless abyss that was his signature jacket and pulled out two lollipops. “One for you, m’lady,” as he presented it to her with a grin.  
“No need,” said Mal as she pulled an identical one out of her pocket. “Anthony had one too.”  
“Awesome sauce,” commented Jay (and he loved Mal’s eye roll at the stupid term) as they kept walking down the street towards the market. “So, what’s up?”  
Mal paused: she wanted to tell Jay about the prince she’d been dreaming about, the one who’d heal her heart. But she decided not to; one these streets, you didn’t share that shit with anyone. It wasn’t allowed to exist.  
“Nothing much,” she said, lying through her teeth. “You?”  
Jay was almost going to share about the plan, and how he felt it would change life as he knew it. How something was happening, and he could feel it in the pit that passed as a soul here.  
“Nothing.”

*******************************************************************************

Carlos groaned as his alarm clock went off. “Great,” he grumbled as he got out of bed. “The day has arrived, when all hell breaks loose.”  
To sum it up, Carlos had a terrible morning.  
Cruella had decided that today out of all days was fur-brushing day, which meant he had to take an anti-bacterial shower ( and you don’t even want to imagine how badly that burned), put on a full-body suit, gloves, goggles, and then get the special brush to stroke the fur of dead(/murdered, whichever you prefer), puppies. Cruella often came to talk to the coats with the love that should’ve went to him. But Carlos didn’t mind anymore, the coats didn’t terrify him anymore now that he had Dude, and Cruella would never get her hands on him. Plus, brushing the unholy furs gave him a chance to think.  
‘I can’t believe the Doctor is making me tutor a guy that’s been bullying me for the past three weeks. I didn’t do anything, then again, maybe it’s like with Cruella, where it’s simply my existence that’s the problem. And I bet the whole session will just be me doing his work and then getting pounded,’ he thought miserably.  
‘However,’ he mused, ‘Maybe the guy’s really smart, and science is just hard for him. Or he’s failing from other unfortunate circumstances. I mean, it’s not like I’ve never had an unfortunate circumstance. To be honest, my whole life is an unfortunate circumstance,’ he chuckled miserably. ‘Maybe it’ll-’  
“Hurry up, you useless little runt!” Cruella screamed as she flung herself off the white sofa. “You’ve been combing in the same spot! Don’t make me get out the baby!”  
Carlos faked a look of terror onto his face, but internally he rolled his eyes.  
Cruella smiled. “That’s what I thought.”  
After he had finished brushing the hair of 50 dead puppies, he carefully removed the hair from the silver-tipped brush and stripped out of the sanitation suit. He tiptoed past Cruella’s room (now that she’s exhausted his usefulness, no need re-alerting her to his existence) and grabbed a piece of toast before rushing out the door.  
‘Shit, I forgot to lock the door,’ Carlos remembered. ‘Well, it probably won’t matter much, I don’t know anyone who’d dare steal from that bitch. But she’d kill me if her furs were put in danger.”  
Carlos turned around, ran to the door, and just as the key turned in the slot-  
Woosh! He turned to see the back of the school bus become a distant memory.  
“Shit.”  
And that’s when the rain started.

*******************************************************************************

Outside, the thunder resembled the drumming of hooves on the flooding earth, as one boy walked, one boy waited, and one man thought.

*******************************************************************************

Jay hated thunderstorms with a burning passion.  
Whenever he had had a particularly bad run, his dad used to make him sleep outside in them. He’d huddle in the blanket his six-year-old self depended on for warmth. His father would leave him with food and a fresh sting on his skin. Jafar would joke around before he left, leaving his son in the dark, showing both sides at once.  
“I’d hate to be the unlucky bastard in this storm,” said Jay amiably.   
And speak of the De Vil, the door opened with a big bang, and a dripping wet Carlos stood, water pooling down at his feet. He angrily stomped inside the office, ignoring the squishing sounds from his feet and the wince on Jay’s face with every step. He walked close to Jay, leaned down, and whispered:  
“I was the unlucky bastard in that storm.” Their faces were so close together their noses touched, and for a split second Jay didn’t know whether to lean in or out. But the choice was made for him when Carlos straightened up, and then plopped down into his seat.  
“Ahem,” started the headmaster as he leaned forward onto his desk. “Now, Jay here, you are to be tutored by Mr.De Vil” (and he paused as the boys shared a glance) “for the duration of the school year-”  
“What!” yelled Carlos as he jumped to his feet, the headmaster trailing off his sentence. “You said I’d be tutoring him for a short period of time, not the whole year! And Jay,” he shrieked, whipping his head to face him as Jay looked like a deer stuck in the headlights, “how have you managed to fail a class three weeks after school started?!”  
Jay felt hurt. (And he fucking hated the feeling.) ‘Did I really bully him to the point he can’t stand me? My dad made me do it. But of course he wouldn’t understand that. But he wasn’t going to sit and be insulted, he had a reputation to uphold.  
“Look, kid,” said Jay as he stood to glare at him, and at his full height did Carlos finally gulp. “I didn’t ask for tutoring, my dad did. I also didn’t ask for a dude with anger management problems. (Yeesh, thought Jay, if looks could kill I’d be dead.) Finally, it’s not my fault science doesn’t come ridiculously easily to me, not everyone is smart enough to skip two grades.”  
Carlos’ face softened; the guy was a lot nicer when he spoke.  
“OK, I guess I may have overstepped a line” (and he was relieved to see a small smile break onto Jay’s face, and god he ought to smile more often). “You can continue, Dr.Facilier, sorry.” He sat down.  
“Thank you, Mr.De Vil. Now, the two of you will be tutoring wherever you choose, as long as you tell the school beforehand. But by next week you’ll be in your dorms and able to study at any time. Now, where will you young men be studying today?”  
Jay and Carlos looked at each other. “Your house?” asked Jay, effortly playing his role.  
“Um, sure,” replied Carlos, even though he would’ve preferred to work at the Slop Shop.  
“O…K…,” said the headmaster, sensing the discomfort on Carlos’ face and desperately wishing for the end of the conversation. “Now, Carlos, all you’ll be doing is helping Jay with all science work, and math if needed. But under no circumstances are you to do the lad’s actual work. You two are aware of the difference between tutoring and straight-up cheating, right?”  
Carlos nodded furiously.  
Jay smirked.  
Dr.Facilier sighed. “Alrighty, well, do you know what you’ll be studying today?”  
“Review. The Classification of Animals,” answered Carlos.  
“Excellent. Jay, do you know any of the concepts?”  
“Not one, sir.”  
“Good Lucifer. Well, the two you are to report back here before you leave. Now, get out.”  
The boys stood up to leave. Well, Carlos did, and Jay, for a reason he didn’t know or want to know, hated that. He was just playing with a strand of his hair until he heard:  
“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot to do something,” commented Carlos, and Jay was just looking through his bag until he felt someone on his neck. He froze.  
“I’ll overlook the kid comment, but don’t think I’ll forget it,” breathed Carlos, and his breath was warm, but it was a nice warm, and why the fuck was he thinking about that?!  
“Kid,” he said with relish, “please back the fuck away from me.”  
And Jay could feel the smirk forming on the younger one’s lips.  
“I won’t forget that one either.”  
And Jay didn’t move until the blondie had left, only then taking his things and leaving.

*******************************************************************************

Jay and Carlos were walking to Hell Hall in complete silence. Carlos was intently reading a book while Jay twirled his beanie around his finger in complete boredom. “Ugh,” thought Jay as he kicked a pebble down the poorly paved road. “He’s such a nerd.”  
In a fit of immaturity, he kicked the rock to the little guy, hoping the blonde would kick it back. Carlos stepped over it without a moment's pause, and Jay was strongly considering ripping the book out of his hands. He was contemplating the pros and cons, and was analyzing how good he’d be in a fight when he saw someone much more entertaining.  
“Hey, Vicky,” started Jay with a smirk as he walked up to her. She had been examining a piece of fruit, and as he got close he saw her slip it into her purse.  
“What do you want Jay?” Vicky was one of the only girls who didn’t giggle at the mere sight of him, so any flirting would have to be subtle. All he really had to do was be nice, which he didn’t mind, especially after finding 4 golden lamps that day. He only stole what wouldn’t be missed, and he never left them without a smile. And in this life, a smile was priceless.  
“So, wonderful weather this afternoon. The wind is wafting the scent of trash in the other direction of the wharf for one.” Vicky rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t frowning anymore. It was a good start.  
“Jay, the weather is never good, but at least I don’t need to smell rich people trash. So, speaking of trash, what brings you here today? All I have are a couple of paintbrushes.”  
Jay chuckled; Vicky was notoriously frank.  
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said mock offended, even bringing a hand to his chest as Vicky let out a small smile. “I was just trying to have a conversation, woman!” Now Vicky was giggling.  
“What type of person do you think I am?! I’m just an honorable, honest guy trying to make small talk,” and from there the snorting mutated into a full-on cackle.  
‘Yeesh,’ thought Jay, ‘she sounds just like her mom.’ He tried to put that thought out of his head as he saw she was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe.  
“Vicky,” said Jay with concern as he helped her off the floor. “You need to breathe now. You’re red, to the point if I saw you and five other tomatoes in a police lineup, I wouldn’t be able to pick you out.” Sadly (not really, Jay liked making her laugh, it was too rare), Vicky started laughing harder.  
“What did I do?”  
“H-How t-the fuck would you get into (and here she started hiccuping) that mother fucking position?!”  
“Tsk, tsk,” chided Jay, knowing Vicky only turned into a potty mouth when she was having fun. “Hasn’t anyone taught you not to curse? Someone ought to wash your mouth out with soap. Or sea water.”  
Vicky rolled her eyes (and Jay could’ve sworn they were marbles, the way those babies rolled. Then again, he only has two facial expressions, a smirk and a non-smirk). “Well, I wouldn’t be complaining if someone locked up in a genie’s bottle.”  
“At least my dad wasn’t desperate enough to take someone’s voice.”  
“At least my mom didn’t take lives. And obsess over genies.”  
“At least my dad didn’t get stabbed by a ship.”  
“If I may remind you, your dad got stuck in a fucking lamp. And my mom had respect for people, your dad judged women by their bodies.”  
“At least my dad ain’t fat.”  
Vicky glowered at him. “And the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” she muttered under her breath. Jay smiled.  
“Vicky, just because I’m my dad doesn’t mean I’m my dad. Best regards to your mama,” and he bowed down deep to kiss her palm.  
“Ugh, Jay,” Vicky giggled. “Now I don’t wanna hear about you calling a lady, or anyone fat. People all have unique body types and that’s perfectly…”  
“What?” Jay asked, getting off his knee and wiping off the rocks.  
“Why is Carlos de Vil storming up to us? He looks really mad at you.” Jay just shrugged, and turned around to see blondie walking up to him looking like Jay stole all he had. And while it hadn’t been the first time he’s seen that look, none of the previous glare-ers had paralyzed him so well. And he had just been staring with a probably stupid looking look on his face until Carlos grabbed his hand and yanked him away.  
“Uh… bye Jay,” waved a confused Vicky as she watched the Prince of Thieves being dragged away by a 14 year old.

*******************************************************************************

 

“WHERE WERE YOU?!” yelled Carlos as they walked (well, Carlos stormed, Jay followed silently) down the street.   
“I’m walking down the street, ALL BY MY FUCKING SELF, when out of nowhere, the Gaston twins come, steal my book, and beat me up. And after I get up, I dig my stuff out of the mud, everything but my goddamn book, and keep walking towards my house. Halfway there, I wonder, ‘where’s Jay?’, and my stupid self thinks, “Oh, maybe he beat me there,” even though you didn’t, you left me, and also, YOU DON’T WHERE MY FUCKING HOUSE IS!!” (Actually, Jay did, everyone knew where Cruella lived). So then I’m walking down the street, soiled, and then the Gaston twins come and FUCKING BEAT ME UP AGAIN! And then, they take my goddamn backpack. With my fucking notes. UGH!” Carlos threw his hands up, dropping Jay to the ground. “I need a drink,” he muttered underneath his breath, putting his hands on his hips and looking around. He saw the Slop Shop to his left.   
“Jay, I’m going to get a coffee.” He whipped around to face the older boy. “Do not move,” he threatened. Jay nodded mutely (he hadn’t been planning to). ‘What the fuck just happened?’ he thought to himself.  
And for some reason the goblins had been speedy, and Carlos once again grabbed his hand and off the went.  
“So there I was, muddy through the streets, and I get beaten up one more time, and I need to beat them back with a stick before they took my clothes. And it's not even the fact that I got beat up, but by that time I had gotten used to it. And as soon as they saw that, they beat harder.”  
Jay saw Carlos’ eyes drop to the ground. He wanted to say something to him, but he didn’t know what.  
“So after all that, I walk into my house and my mother sees me, so she has a talk with me. And after I scrub the floor, and do the laundry, vacuum the carpet, and break out of the closet, I come back, looking for you, thinking you got lost, and what do I see? You, laughing with Vicky, and me, all I got was-”  
“Carlos, I need to ask you a question,” and with that sentence he stopped moving. Carlos, however, kept trying to leave.  
“Carlos, please look at me,” asked Jay softly, and he took Carlos’ face and turned it towards his own. He saw makeup that would fool anyone else but him: his father had sold the container to Carlos himself. He took two fingers and gently wiped it away. Underneath was a black eye, the flesh still swollen.  
“Who did that?”  
“The twins,” he replied, the shame thick on his face.  
Jay nodded, and then made the fatal mistake of looking down.   
He saw the makeup everywhere: his arms, legs, cheeks, neck, probably stomach (a bit was smudged on his shirt fringe). He couldn’t swallow.  
“Who did that to you?” asked Jay, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.   
Carlos wouldn’t look him in the eye.  
“Goddamnit Carlos, answer me!”  
The younger boy let out a sob. “My mother,” and his voice cracked as he said it, and it was the voice someone trying to stay strong, but couldn’t. So Jay took it as his responsibility to lift up and carry the broken-hearted boy home. And only when he fell asleep did the pain leave his face at last. And that’s when Jay finally allowed himself to cry.

*******************************************************************************

“Carlos, wake up,” said Jay, slowing shaking the younger boy awake. They were in his dad’s shop: Jafar was out on “business”.  
“Whaa..” said Carlos drowsily, adjusting his body to sit up. Jay sat down next to him. “I hope you don’t mind, but I gave you a bath. I was afraid your cuts would get infected.”  
Carlos nodded, but then his eyes widened. He reached for his hands, praying that his gloves would be on them, but he noticed them lain softly on the table next to him. He reached for them, but Jay took his hands and pushed them down to his lap.  
“I saw your scars,” he said, and Carlos was ready to say something, anything, to get himself out of this, but Jay continued. “All of them, C.” And Carlos was happy to hear the nickname, but he couldn’t focus on that now. He couldn’t read Jay’s face, so he hid his under the blanket. “Look, Jay-”  
“Carlos, drop it. You don’t owe me an explanation. Now, please, look at me.”  
Carlos buried himself deeper, awaiting the yelling he was sure he’d receive.  
“Carlos, please,” and he turned to see someone who seemed to care. And for him, what a rare sight it was.  
“I can’t say I know what you’re going through, or that I understand, but you’re alive right now, and that’s something to celebrate.” Carlos smiled, and Jay was happy to see it.  
“Hey, you got my stuff back,” said Carlos, and he hopped off the bed to his backpack. “You didn’t need to do that.”  
“It was nothing.”  
Actually, Jay didn’t think he’d ever been that mad. He’d felt awful for leaving Carlos alone, and he was determined to make up for it. Starting with beating those motherfucking asses to a pulp.  
He found them in an alley. They had been happy to see him, and had proceeded to brag to Jay about their latest conquest.  
“Hey, Jay,” Gaston Jr. had said. “You won’t believe what we just got.”  
They held up a backpack caked with mud, but underneath you could see Carlos’ signature color scheme on the bag: red, white, and black. He’d obviously spent a lot of time on the design (even the careful stitches matched the print) and now it was ruined. Jay hadn’t realized he was making fists in his pockets until his nails bit into his skin. He didn’t release them.  
“We stole it from the Cruella boy. He was so scared!”  
“Yeah, man, you should’ve seen him, there was snot running down his nose, and-”  
“The black eye, asswipe, mention it.”  
Jay raised an eye in response. Besides the fact that he needed to catch them by surprise, he was curious as to who punched Carlos that hard. They’d be punished.  
“Oh, yeah, the black eye, it was-”  
“I gave him the best one this island’s ever seen,” said Gaston the Third with a flourish.   
Jay crossed his arms. “Huh,” Jay thought. ‘If I wasn’t ready to beat him to a bloody mess, I would’ve asked for his technique.’   
“I bet the flesh is still purple,” bragged Gaston Jr. (It was, Jay had put a bag of peas on it before leaving his dad’s store, promising with a kiss on the forehead to be back soon.)  
“You had to see it, Jay, punching him, it felt like-”  
“This perhaps?”  
And Jay, not being able to control his anger any longer, gave them both the best black eyes he’d ever punched. Then, he slammed them against the wall. Flung their bodies against the wall. Raked sticks across their skin. Gaston Jr. had started crying, but he had made sure to make Gaston III scream. And Jay loved hearing it. He took his boots, and fists, his body, his words, and he used them againsts the brothers, destroyed those bastards. And he did it because he could, and in this shitty world where his every action had to be approved by his father, he had full control over his body and mind, and he was proud to say he could do whatever the fuck he wanted with them.  
And he hadn’t stopped until they were unconscious, after the ‘please stop’’s and the ‘we’re sorry’’s had faded from their lips. He then picked up Carlos’ backpack, pick pocketed the brats, and went to the bookstore to buy Carlos a new book. The rest he saved for the blonde: he might need it.  
Jay snapped out of the memory.  
“Jay, you got me a new book too? You didn’t have to.” Carlos flipped through the pages, and then looked up with a face of pure appreciation. It weirded Jay out, but his stomach flopped. ‘Maybe I’m hungry,’ he thought.  
“Alrighty, well, we better start getting you back to your house, it’s almost curfew.”  
Carlos raised a brow. “You follow the curfew?”  
Jay smirked. “No, but something tells me you do.”

*******************************************************************************  
The two boys were walking home. Carlos was lost in his thoughts, and Jay was whistling away his. Today had been rough, and he always started to do it when he was stressed. Which explains why his dad had banned the sound in their house.  
“Jay, could you stop doing whatever the hell it is you’re doing? I’m trying to think.” Jay smiled a lazy smile, and started whistling louder.  
“Jay, I meant that, stop.”  
“Calm down blondie, I’m not trying to start anything.”  
Carlos blushed at the nickname, hoping Jay wouldn’t notice.  
“Dear Lucifer, I hope you and Vicky don’t rob anyone with a vine of cherry tomatoes; I wouldn’t be able to bail you guys out.”  
Carlos had a confused look on his face. “How the fuck would anyone get into that position?”  
Jay laughed. “Huh. That’s what she said too.”  
Carlos bunched his eyebrows, and then leaned in to smell Jay’s breath.  
“What are you doing?” Jay asked, leaning his head back.  
“Checking if you’ve had alcohol. I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours, but there is no way you can be that happy without being seriously drunk.”  
“Carlos, I don’t need alcohol to get drunk. Life itself gets me drunk.”  
Carlos frowned. “If life gets you drunk, I’d prefer to stay sober.”  
“That’s a terrible attitude.”  
“You’re a terrible attitude.”  
“You’re a terrible color.”  
“You’re a terrible song.”  
“I’m a perfectly fine song, I’ll even sing it for you.”  
“Please don’t.”  
They walked down the alley in silence, both trying to figure out what the hell that conversation was.  
“Jay, what color am I?”  
Jay stopped to think. “You’re...red.”  
Carlos nodded. “Why?”  
“Well, the color seems to suit you, and it’s one of the only colors you wear, so-”  
“I mean, why are you being so nice to me? I have nothing to offer you.”  
Jay casually looped an arm around the younger boy. “I don’t have a reason not to.”  
Carlos laughed bitterly. “This whole godforsaken place is a reason. My mother said-”  
“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe your mother was wrong?”  
Jay had thought he’d gotten to the boy until he was shoved to the ground. He looked up to see tears in the other boy’s eyes, and he was ready to kill himself.  
“Carlos, wait, I didn’t mean it like that.” But Carlos ran off. Jay could hear him sobbing.  
He picked himself up and brushed off the flecks of mud. ‘Hadn’t needed to fucking leave me.’ He noticed Carlos’ stuff on the ground, so he picked it up and slung it over his shoulder. He started on his walk home.  
‘Wait, Carlos, I didn’t mean it like that.’ he thought angrily. ‘I did mean that, and it’s true too.’  
Jay eventually got sick of his thoughts, so he turned off his brain. (He had learned the trick during one of his ‘nature sleepovers’.) He was numb during it all, when he walked down the street and heard a scream (They were background noise now). When he went to Hell Hall and waited outside for two fucking hours even though he saw a light on. He listened to a woman scream again, and a boy cry, and not even that, he heard a cackle, a shriek, a yell, more screams, tears, hits, beatings, rape, arrangements, assault, and other horrible things, and he forced himself not to feel a thing. He stayed in that state of existence during his walk home, and when his dad dragged him out from under his shelf to have a ‘talk’ with him, he shut everything off. And he didn’t come back to the feeling until he felt the foreign tears slide down his cheeks, his body shake, and his heart break down. The same feeling that must’ve happened to the other boy millions of times. But never him. And Jay swore it’d never happen again.

*******************************************************************************

“Hey, um, Jay, could I talk to you?” asked Carlos the next morning at school, the anxiety fraught on his face. He had walked up to Jay getting some books out of his locker.  
Jay took a deep breath. His dad had drilled a lesson into him the night before.  
(Don’t be stupid,” he had said. “You’re not friends, you don’t need anyone.” “Why do I have a child like you, one who won’t listen to me?” God must be punishing me, what did I do wrong?!” With a slap on every question, and he had felt it everywhere.)  
“Hi Carlos,” he said with a smile they both knew was fake. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about. Glad you got your backpack from the front porch.”  
Carlos just nodded and adjusted the suddenly heavy strap; just because he’d had a change of heart doesn’t mean the older boy would’ve. Right now, he just wished his had come sooner. By the time he’d mustered enough courage to go outside, Jay had left.  
“Fine,” he said. “Are we tutoring still?”  
Jay nodded.  
“Alrighty then,” concluded Carlos, and with that he zipped off to first period. Jay watched him rush to class with a sad smile.

*******************************************************************************

“O.K. Jay, we’re going to start with Geometry. Can you write a geometric proof proving this is an equilateral triangle?” The blonde pushed a triangle to the older teen. Jay rolled his eyes and pushed it back.  
“C, as long as the person had eyes and an education past first grade, they’d know that was a triangle.”  
Carlos pushed it back. “Jay, you need to prove it, that this isn’t just a triangle disguised as an equilateral triangle.”  
Jay flipped the flash card over and pointed to the words “equilateral triangle” printed neatly in the middle. “Carlos, you’re better than this. I deserve better than this.”  
Carlos blushed furiously. “Stop being an ass.”  
Jay snickered; he was glad they were on good terms again.  
During school, they had avoided looking at each other, which had been hard because the doctor had decided to give them every class together. Luckily, they had an intermission through lunch, and while Carlos had jetted off to who knows where, Jay had to find somewhere to sit. He never sat with Mal, so any table of available ladies was his preferred seating, but today he had wanted to be left alone (because Rebecca was getting on his goddamn nerves with the touching: he hated to be touched). So he went to the library.  
“Hello Phyllis,” he greeted the elderly librarian with a warm smile. He never stole from this place: the librarian was his favorite person, and this place was too special to him to defile. “How are the kids? They must be what, five now?”  
Ms.Phyllis lightly smacked his shoulder, but she was beaming. “Jay, flirting with the librarian. What happened, did the young ladies here finally sign chastity pledges, A.K.A., “Anti-Jay” pledges?”  
Jay shuddered. “Lord, I hope not. I’d be out of business.”  
Phyllis chuckled. “I brought you something from the upper city-state,” and she pulled out a fresh copy of the Blood of Olympus, a book he’d been wanting to read for ages. Sadly, no one threw out that book. He should know, he’d spent weeks scouring the barges before giving up.  
His face broke into a wide smile. “Thanks Phyll.”  
He picked up the book gently, and stroked the cover lovingly as he made his way to his favorite beanbag. He used to hate reading, but last year he’d been in a bad place, and the librarian and these rooms had helped him when no one else would. So now he loved to read. It took him somewhere else, where “happily ever after” was still possible.   
Especially in this book. It didn’t help that he was now attached to the characters in completely unhealthy ways. He got comfortable, and got enthralled into the story. He was just at the Nike part of the story when he heard a large crash, and saw Ms.Phyllis pushed to the floor by two boys he didn’t know. He hands were shaking (she had anxiety disorder from being on the island for so long. ‘This must be hell for her,’ he thought as his heart sunk and he clenched his fingers), but she was looking around the library with a worried look on her face, probably to make sure he was safe. He found the thought oddly comforting.   
He easily disarmed them, and was in the process of removing weapons of arson from the pockets of twelve-year-olds when Ms.Phyllis woke up (she had passed out during the ordeal).  
“Jay?” she asked, shaking her head awake as he helped he to her feet.  
“I know what you’re about to say, and I agree with you.”  
“So you understand?”  
“I know,” he repeated numbly, and he was used to it. That this island always ended up taking away all he held dear. And what few things he had had to begin with. “I’ll miss you, tell your daughters I said hello.”  
They shared a hug, and she kissed his forehead.  
“I’ll leave you the keys,” she whispered in his ear. She set off to tidy up the bookshelves as Jay went back to his special spot to get the book. He put it on the counter as he turned to walk back to the lunchroom, but he saw the librarian push it back.  
“It’s yours,” she said with a smile. “Also,” and she leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eye, “I’m not leaving until six, and they’re not bothering to replace me, so you can study with your Mr.De Vil in here anytime you want.”  
Jay rolled his eyes, but it didn’t stop the blush from rising to his cheeks. (He may or may not have came there early in the morning to talk about last night’s events with the bibliophile.) He turned around to leave, but he changed his mind and mumbled a shy “could I stay?” underneath his breath.  
Ms.Phyllis smiled, and pretended not to have heard him.  
He grumbled “could I stay?” again, a bit louder than before.  
She smiled, pointed to her ear, and went back to her dusting. Jay bit back a groan; the woman was always on his case for speaking up.  
“Phyllis, could I please stay?” He put a convincing polite tone in his voice.  
“Oh, sure Jay, glad I heard that.”  
He rolled his eyes and went back to his corner, where he saw a certain friend of his.  
“Hey Carlos,” said Jay, rocking on the balls of his feet. “You’re in my spot.”  
The younger male looked up at him and looked wide-eyed. He’d started to get up when the son of Jafar pushed him down.  
“Don’t bother; just scoot over.”  
Carlos butt scooched to the far end of the bean bag until Jay looped an arm around his waist and brought him closer. “Sorry about invading your personal space, but you were about to fall off.”  
They read in silence until Carlos spoke up. “I’m sorry.”  
Jay looked at him with a bewildered look on his face, and then abruptly got up and raced to the librarian's desk.  
Ms.Phyllis had been listening to their conversation with a small grin on her face. “Yes, Jay?”  
“He just said “I’m sorry” to me.”  
“And?”  
“How the hell do I respond to that?! My dad taught me never to say those words, much less receive them without making the guy suffer first. And I don’t really have time to lay one thousand and one curses onto his family bloodline right now.”  
Ms.Phyllis stared at him, appalled. ‘Jumping Jehosaphat, what’s wrong with these people?! Why the hell do we let them parent?!’  
She took a deep breath, refusing to blame the boy. “You say ‘I accept your apology’ and then you move on.”  
Jay scowled at her. “How long have you been in this district?”  
“Six years.”  
“Six years from ‘Happily Ever After’ and you’re still saying bullshit like I accept your apology? Auradonians.” He pushed himself off the desk and went back to Carlos, who was sweating. A lot.  
“Carlos, I accept your apology” and he said it nervously, because he forgot to ask that librarian what the fuck came afterwards.  
He looked down to see that beautiful smile again. “Cool.”  
“Cool.”  
So now back to the present, where they were doing algebra. And where he wanted to die. And kill Ms.Phyllis, who so wasn’t being subtle. While Carlos rooted around his backpack for a calculator, Jay frantically waved for her to get the fuck out until Carlos looked back up, which led to him pretending to swat a fly.  
“Lots of flies in here,” he muttered after the twelfth time that had happened, after which Ms.Phyllis called out to them it was time for them to leave.  
“I’ll be right back,” he said to Carlos as the blondie collected his things.  
“Hey, um…” he started before the only person who’d seen good in him gathered him into a hug that was both the longest and shortest he’d ever had. When they pulled away, both were crying.  
“Jay, don’t let me be the only one to see this side of you. And I’m not talking about Mal, at least not right now.” He followed her gaze to Carlos de Vil, who was looking at a shelf of Harry Potter. “Something tells me that I’m leaving for a reason, because my time with you is done. And I know you know it too.”  
“Yes, but it’s not like I know why! Please, don’t go, don’t leave me.”  
“Jay, can’t you see? I’m not leaving you, I’m giving you to someone else. Just like your mother did.”  
Jay nodded thickly. “So, I should…”  
“Yes.”  
He turned away, and walked back to their table. He heard the click of the door, and knew she had slipped the key into his pocket.  
Carlos turned to face him. “Oh, um, hey Jay,” he said. “Where’s the-”  
“Never mind that. Ready to go?”  
“Yeah.”  
And the two boys walked out of the library into the unknown.

**Author's Note:**

> So that's the first chapter! Please tell me if you like it, and I'm sorry if they're OOC. If you guys decide you want another chapter, my posting will span from once a fortnight to once every month or two; school is hectic. If it takes two long, I'll post something. Also, I'm thinking of making a small series of one-shots with Jay and the librarian, so if anyone's interested, or thinks it's a bad idea, feel free to tell me.
> 
> My tumblr: elmosolyodnius.tumblr.com, asks are welcome.
> 
> (Sorry if I'm being annoying)


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